


Disintegration

by PrincessTurk



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Angst, Clubbing, Debauchery, Depression, Drug Addiction, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Punk Goths, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20549918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessTurk/pseuds/PrincessTurk
Summary: AU, 1980s Post-Punk Goth scene based in a London-esque underground setting. Reno's life has consisted of constant depression, leading him to a dark path of addiction and suicidal tendencies. In his time of dying, Cloud - a stranger he doesn't remember meeting - turns into his lifeline. A wild trip of excess and debauchery follows, and all they have left in the end is each other.





	1. Disintegration

**Author's Note:**

> _"I leave you with photographs, pictures of trickery, stains on the carpet, and stains on the scenery. Songs about happiness murmured in dreams, when we both of us knew how the ending would be."_ \- The Cure, 'Disintegration'.

Reno fiddled with the pistol in his hand. One bullet in the chamber. _Click-click-click._ He pointed the gun to his head. Eyes shut tightly, he squeezed the trigger.

Nothing.

"Fuck!"

He spun the cylinder again, shoving the gun to his temple - and nothing, still.

He tossed the pistol beside him on the bed with a cry of anger and grabbed his bottle of vodka. He stumbled to the bathroom, the vodka swishing in the bottle with his every movement. He took a swig and set the bottle on the back of the toilet. He looked at himself in the mirror: a shadow of his former self stared back at him. He could no longer see himself, really. The day that he had left home as a depressed 17-year old, he'd ended up on the streets, begging for food - and eventually, begging for drugs to escape his stark reality. He'd worked his way up: he got sober, got an apartment and a job. Now, at age 21, he was off of the wagon again. Hell, he'd _destroyed_ the fucking wagon.

Depression was almost always forefront in his mind in his every day life, morning and night. Alcohol became a mainstay in his life again, and eventually he lost his job because of it. Pills followed, and then he was back on the blow. Now, the night found him playing Russian Roulette with a pistol he'd lifted from a pawn show earlier that day.

He was fucking angry. He was over it and tired of trying. His entire life had been a waste of fucking time. He'd failed at life, failed at everything. Now he was failing at offing himself - and that pissed him off even more.

He spit at his reflection in the mirror and yanked open the medicine cabinet door tucked behind it. A plethora of pill bottles and various medicinal syrups lined the small shelves inside. He grabbed a bottle of sedatives and slammed the door shut. Retrieving the vodka bottle, he made his way back to his bed and sat down. Tucking the pistol underneath his mattress, he settled onto the comforter and popped the top on the unlabeled pill bottle. He poured the white Benzodiazepine pills into a large pile and tossed the bottle to the side. Reno pushed them around with his finger, wondering just how many he'd have to take to end it all.

"Three mils a pop... five? Six? Twenty?"

Reno cupped one of the pills in his hand and launched it into the air, catching it on his tongue. He took a long drink of vodka and tossed his head back, swallowing everything in one gulp. A third pill followed the second. Three more went into his belly at once. He laughed to himself and shook his head, thinking to himself that no one was going to find him for a very long time. No one gave a shit. He scooped five more into his hand and tossed them into his mouth, chasing them with the vodka. Another five, then two.

As he was picking up another pill, his phone rang.

"Are you fucking _kiddin'_ me?" Reno hissed. He placed the pill to his lips, opened his mouth to deliver it - and the phone rang again.

"God-fucking-damn-it!"

He clenched the pill in his fist and stood up from the bed. Grabbing the phone off of the receiver, his brow furrowed as he stood there.

"Who the fuck is this?"

He gripped the phone, staying silent. He could hear someone breathing quietly on the other line, and he rolled his eyes impatiently. Suddenly, the mysterious caller began to speak.

"Hello? Are you there?"

Reno raised an eyebrow. The voice was obviously very male, but the man was soft-spoken and seemed shy. "Who is this?' he asked.

"This is Cloud. Cloud Strife, remember? I met you at the club the other night."

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell. You've got the wrong number, yo," Reno said in an agitated tone. He was ready to get the show on the road and blow this joint - and this Cloud Strife character was interrupting him.

"Your name is Reno, yeah? You don't remember me?" Cloud said. "We did some lines downtown at Castle the other night and you gave me your number. Told me to call if I ever wanted to hang out."

Reno laughed. It was a small snicker that turned into a rolling laughter that echoed off of the walls of his sparse apartment. "Oh my God, dude. We did blow together, and you expect me to remember anything from that night?" He laughed until he was leaning against the wall, propping himself up. He vaguely recalled tripping on a handful of Benzos and going downtown a few nights ago... but the man on the telephone and the events he was speaking of? It sounded like a fairy-tale to him.

"I don't get what's so funny," Cloud said. "I'm telling you the truth. Otherwise, how'd I get your number? How in the hell would I even know your name?"

"Fuck if I know, Cloud, but I really need to go. I'm... in the middle of something important," Reno said, his laughter tapering off.

"What are you doing tonight? I wanna hang out," Cloud replied.

"I don't wanna talk about it, yo."

Silence filled both sides of the telephone line. The room began to spin. Reno moaned, then gagged. He gripped the phone and dropped the pill from his hand as he rushed to the toilet and vomited into it. He could hear the blood rushing in his head, and the faint noise of Cloud calling out his name as the phone dropped to the tiled floor. The room began to turn dark. He slid down sideways onto the floor and lay there, hearing the echo of the blood in his head - and Cloud.

"I'm coming over, Reno. I'm going to track your number so I can get your address. Just hang on!"

Reno closed his eyes. "Goddamn it, don't come and fuckin' try to save me. I ain't worth savin'!" he screamed inside his head. Then all was quiet, and Reno took his last breath.

\-------

Floating. Free. He was being lifted and carried, and voices surrounded him from all sides.

"Reno! Reno, it's Cloud! Can you hear me? You're gonna be okay, friend!"

He couldn't move, couldn't open his eyes. Was he _finally_ fucking dead? Didn't seem like it. Someone was poking and prodding him. The sound of doors slamming; a siren.

_God-fucking-damn-it. I'm still alive._


	2. One Hundred Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"We die - one after the other, one after the other. It feels like a hundred years, a hundred years. One hundred years."_ \- The Cure, 'One Hundred Years'.

Reno was in a panic - but he couldn't scream, couldn't move. He couldn't even open his eyes, and he wanted to _so badly._ He was hearing everything that was going on in the room, and vaguely understood that he was in the hospital. People - _nurses?_ \- would come into the room to turn him and fuss with him, their hands always so cold.

And yet, one set of hands was always warm. Cloud Strife, the mysterious stranger that he couldn't for the life of him remember meeting, had not left him. He didn't even know what Cloud looked like, but he enjoyed the sound of his soft voice that cut through the blackness of his current reality.

Cloud told him stories and jokes. He shared events from the daily newspaper. Cloud would pat him on the shoulder and arm - sometimes would lay a hand gently on his forehead. Always, Cloud was there to help take his mind off of the fact that he couldn't do shit about his situation. It was frustrating.

He had wanted to die; now he wanted to live.

\---

Cloud glanced at the clock on the wall of the hospital room. 10:15. They kept it dark in here, no matter what time of day it was. He knew it was nighttime, though, and he was starting to catch his second wind. He stood up to stretch, cracking his neck and adjusting the chains of his many necklaces.

"Another night, Reno. Don't you worry - I'm not going anywhere," he said, patting Reno on the shoulder. There was no reply, no movement from the man. He had been in the coma for an entire week now. He luckily could breathe on his own, his vitals had been stable for days, and an intravenous line pumped in fluids and medications to keep him hydrated and calm. Cloud just wanted Reno to wake up, so that they could meet properly.

He remembered the night they met at Castle, even if Reno didn't. He'd seen Reno there a few times, but was always nervous to approach him. They both always showed up alone and left alone - unlike some of the other club patrons, who generally came looking for casual sex and drugs.

Reno had stood out to him from the moment Cloud spotted him across the dance floor: vibrant red hair tipped with black ends that was swept back into a thin ponytail most of the time. Short, lush spikes protruded out in all directions. His piercings were plenty, and he smoked clove cigarettes in between snorting lines of cocaine, always dancing by himself in the dark smoke-filled room. He had red lines painted high up on his cheekbones, which was fairly unusual and certainly piqued Cloud's interest. Black eyeliner completed the beautiful picture as Reno danced and swayed to the dark beat of the music, and he was a sight to behold.

Cloud had been the one to approach Reno that fateful night they met. A casual _Hey_ and an offer of blow had set the two talking. They did lines and Reno shared his cloves, dancing the rest of the night away together. At the end of the evening, Reno had passed him a slip of paper with his telephone number on it. _Gimme a call if you ever want to hang out. You seem pretty cool!_ With a quick wave, Reno had left - and _Cloud_ was left grinning through his mask of white face powder and black lipstick.

When he called Reno, he never expected to get pulled into a whirlwind of doctors and endless days of sitting in stasis in a darkened hospital room. He'd never saved a life before. All he knew was that Reno, who was still technically a stranger, was in major trouble when he called that night. He knew the sounds of an overdose; though he had never had one himself, he'd unfortunately witnessed it in the club once. When he and the emergency workers showed up at Reno's apartment after tracking down his address, Reno was not breathing and was pale. He'd never forget what Reno looked like in that moment, lying on the floor and dead.

He remembered the scene quite well: Pills scattered across the bed, two empty bottles of vodka, and the telephone cord stretched around the corner from the bedroom to the bathroom. Watery vomit in the toilet. Reno curled up on his side still reaching for the phone; mouth open, eyes shut. Cloud was scared shitless. He had moved out of the way in order to let the workers do their thing, but he remained in the doorway, shouting to Reno that he would be okay.

Cloud understood now that Reno was trying to kill himself when he called the man, and all he could think of was _Why?_ He had so many questions he wanted to ask Reno - if only he would wake up.

\-----

Reno was dancing in a field to the music in his head, his flaming red hair bobbing along with him. He sat down on the cool grass and fished his clove cigarettes out of his pocket. Lighting one, he exhaled and leaned back on his hands to gaze at the sky. Cloud appeared at his side and sat down.

"Can I bum one?"

"Do you ever have your own smokes?" Reno chided, sitting up to offer the blond a clove. Cloud smirked at him as he lit the cigarette.

"I'm a first-rate cigarette bum, didn't you know?" Cloud replied. They sat in silence for a few moments, when suddenly Cloud turned to him and smiled.

_"Don't you worry - I'm not going anywhere."_

Reno raised his eyebrow. "What do ya mean?" he asked.

Cloud hummed a song, but it sounded far away to him. He couldn't understand why the sound was so distant. Then, the scenery changed: He was in bed at his apartment, his red blanket draped across his nude body. His hair was untied and flowed freely across his pillow. An arm snaked across his torso and a kiss was chastely placed on his cheek. Someone nestled their face against his shoulder - and he froze.

_"Good morning."_

He heard Cloud's voice, but couldn't see him. He was in bed alone now. He screamed, but the sound didn't leave his mouth.

_"It's after four. We've made it another day, Reno."_

Reno sat up in bed, throwing the blanket off of him and rushing to put his clothes and boots on. He grabbed his apartment keys and ran out the door. As he approached the stairs, he slipped and fell. Crashing down the four flights of stairs, he landed hard at the bottom and lay on the carpeted floor of the building's lobby. Staring up at the bright lights on the ceiling, his vision became blurry. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. What felt like thousands of hands on him suddenly, he began to kick his legs and thrash about. The invisible hands pulled on him, and he felt himself being dragged toward the front door, awash in bright light.

"Get off of me!" Reno shouted. Then all went white.

\---

Cloud stood up quickly as Reno began moaning and turning his head back and forth.

"Nurse!" Cloud shouted for help. He put a hand on Reno's arm. "Reno! Reno, stay calm. You're okay. Everything's going to be alright."

Reno moaned and opened his mouth to speak, but only the harsh moan came out. He slowly began to open his eyes. Through his hazy vision, he was greeted by concerned blue eyes framed in blond bangs and wispy spikes.

_It's Cloud. I remember him now._

He flashed back to that night in Castle, before he'd snorted lines of cocaine with Cloud and lost track of his actions that night. A Bauhaus song was playing loudly; the smell of cloves and sweat drifting through the dim club. The blond walked over to him. _Hey. Wanna do a line?_ It had felt like a hundred years since that night. He'd thought the benzos and coke had made him forget, but perhaps he had regained the memory while he was stuck in the black hole of his subconscious mind.

"...Cloud," Reno whispered with a rasp.

Cloud grinned down at him as the nurses came rushing in behind him. "That'd be me. It's nice to finally meet you, Reno."


End file.
